terri can pop her fingers
pop em so loud
make you think she got somethin
inside her hand
she steps outside the illusion now
and works harrison
they ran her off troost
said it was too good
for such an immoral trade
terri said she’s been kinda
layin back lately
no pun intended
getting ready for the conventioneers
“naacp?”/i ask
she says/“naw, the a.m.e.
and especially the southern baptists!”

ray made a strong point
about the serenity with which people
go about their
“good” jobs at the other end
of troost
what do they do at honeywell?
people drive by all the time
what do they do?
what do they do at honeywell?
at honeywell
among other things
they make triggers
for nuclear bombs
yes they do
they make triggers for computerized guided death machines
machines not built to be used
as a last resort against
bigheaded monsters from outer space

but by
bigheaded monsters
in their all consuming holy war
against right
bombs to be used by the thought police
and their masters

terri used to follow her grandmother
then she followed
the honorable elijah muhammad
then karl marx
now she follows
a cat
with a stingy-brim hat
and diamonds on his wrists/on his fingers
and in his teeth
she said she dug farrakhan on channel 25
the other night
and thinks she might join the nation
again
but not until after the conventions
i ask her deadpan
“what’s black people’s main problem?”
without blinking she says
“black people consume too much
and don’t
(crack!)
sell enough!”
“where’d you hear that?”
i ask
she says
“i heard it from the griot
in front of food mart
now you can argue with 300,000 years
of history
if you want to
but I ain’t got time”
as she moved toward a nice
family man
with out-of-state plates
near the southern end of troost
they make triggers for nuclear bombs
that’s a good reason to be targeted
by the russians/the chinese/the north koreans
or
anybody else who feels they might need
to bang back
rat lady underground
miles & miles deep in war rooms
scotch in the bar
but we live topside
with the rat roun our necks
ron’s cynicism mixed with mrs. watson’s boy’s
pancake street sissy death mask
designed to slow traffic & entice
the not rare surbubanite hypocriticus
into his lair
make the perfect emblem for labor
on troost

terri said
she already had tickets to michael jackson’s
return concert
she said
“it’s like that/when you know the right people”
after listening to a tape of farrakhan’s
st. louis speech
she said
“yeah/that’s badnamothafucka!
but i’m still gonna go see michael
i don’t care if he is a punk”
she’s rollin
“bush a punk and he president
all michael do is sang!”
she pops her collar/looks both ways
leans over to me and whispers
“bush georged the president
of Afghanistan/in the white house!/cape & all!”
now who am I to say that’s not true?
she had tickets/i didn’t
once while observing an ultra-christian demonstration
against a book store on troost
i asked the head-zealot-in-charge
about the purpose of their action
he came across with the ole reliable
“we don’t want our children to see
such sinful things”
i told him/i didn’t think he didn’t have to worry
because if things keep going the way they are
and if the kids catch one of the flashes
they won’t be seein a damn thang
nor will they be able to see
the radiation
as it cooks their insides
rendering them sterile
dna altered for eternity
or the sight of hip mutants
from sector d
which used to be such a livable place
reading by the light and breakin
to the music
of children who glow in the dark

the johns cruise
as though embarrassed buzzards
in heat
i’m not sure why they call em johns
probably got something to do with
john doe/ john q. public
or maybe it has something to do with johnsons
i don’t know
but in real life
they tend to be named
chuck/pat/tom/bobby joe/rex
and increasingly bruce & chad
and yes
sometimes leroy

so you want to clean up troost
well
know that the combined weight of
all the loveless blow jobs in the world
can not erase humanity from the planet
as if we were just so many misspelled words
bring winter to the tropics
turn forests to deserts
cities to furnaces
causing concrete and steel to run like water
a clear and present danger
holy books & constitutions to ash/dust
flowers a memory
tell the moral majority
that nuclear war would put a hellava dent
in church attendance
tell the troost business association
that nuclear war would dramatically reduce
they walk-in trade
tell the hyde park circle up the wagons
young pioneers neighborhood coalition
that nuclear war would create a circumstance
under which there will be no quiche
no quiche
no joggin paths
no joggin
no european music
no europe
no weekend ski vacations
no skis
no vail
no racquetballs
no racquetball clubs
no racquetball racquets
nuclear war ain’t all bad

so you want to clean up troost
on which end will you start?

© lloyd daniel, 1985/2006 taken from his book “objective reality”

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